


The Blood Feather Incident

by aroacejoot



Series: on learning to fly [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Humor, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Some Fluff, Wingfic, this is what you get when you let me research wings, was originally going to try for angst but uhh that didnt happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28415535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroacejoot/pseuds/aroacejoot
Summary: Blood feather (n.)A pin feather, sometimes called a "blood feather", is a developing feather on a bird. This feather can grow as a new feather during the bird's infancy, or grow to replace one from moulting. The pin feather looks somewhat like a feather shaft. However, unlike a fully developed feather, the pin feather has a blood supply flowing through it. As such, if the pin feather is damaged, a bird can bleed heavily.Anakin is forced to learn a valuable lesson about wing health and looking before you leap.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: on learning to fly [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036284
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78
Collections: New SW Canon Server Works





	The Blood Feather Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ro29](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro29/gifts).



> Happy birthday Ro!!! 
> 
> This fic fought me so much but it's DONE and it was closer to completion than any of my other WIPs as well as being the only one that would be mostly a surprise for you. Thanks for letting me join you in your wingfic sandbox.
> 
> Big thanks to EmeraldHeiress for beta reading!

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan called out as he caught up, “That was very reckless.”

“I’m fine, Master. They barely even touched me.” 

Anakin pumped his wings to demonstrate, only to wince at a pain on the back of the left that certainly hadn't been there before. He’d been coming into some new plumage recently and was still a bit sensitive--but that was more of an ache. This was sharp. A cold, piercing, throb, like an exposed tooth. 

He tried to disguise the wince but it was too late; Obi-Wan had already noticed. 

“Well, then, my young Padawan,” he said, moving closer and smiling in the way that meant he didn’t really believe Anakin but was humoring him to make a point, “let me see where their weapons  _ oh-so-barely _ touched you.”

“This is nothing! I'm just sore from moulting, is all. I didn’t even get hit there.”

Obi-Wan stepped away, but stood firm in his argument. “First of all, I watched that fight, so I saw it happen. Secondly, I just preened you this morning and you had no issues then. In fact, if I recall correctly, you specifically told me your soreness had largely subsided.” 

Darn, he’d forgotten about that. 

“Okay, so maybe it stings a bit... but it’s nothing to worry about.” 

It definitely did more than sting but Anakin tightened his shields so his master couldn’t feel it. He knew it would lead to a lecture about impatience. If Obi-Wan knew he’d hurt himself taking on those goons alone, even though he totally won easily--he’d only gotten hit  _ once _ and it hadn’t even been with a blaster bolt because Anakin was  _ smart _ and didn’t give them space to aim or time to go for their secondary weapons he just wasn’t expecting the last guy to club him with his blaster rifle--then he’d never let Anakin do things by himself.

He had to attack right then or else they would’ve gotten another one of those sacred birds. It was the whole point of the mission.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I’m not going to force you to let me touch your wings right now, so what we’re going to do is we are going to restrain these poachers. Then, you can either show me your wing, or unblock the bond so I can assess your pain. If it truly is nothing serious, then I promise that I will drop the topic.” 

Obi-Wan would definitely over-exaggerate any pain he felt regardless, so he’d just end up checking Anakin’s wing either way. Better to get it over with sooner rather than later. Plus, maybe if he saw the wing without feeling the pain then he’d let it go easier. 

His wing pulsed a reminder as the two of them got to work placing binders on the unconscious poachers. 

It didn’t even take a minute before Obi-Wan was looking him over. 

“Oh dear, you broke a blood feather. Let me grab the medkit.”

“It’s fine, Master, really,” Anakin said, pulling away, “I can wait until we get back to town.”

“Anakin, it might not seem so but this is serious. You could bleed out from this.” 

“Wait, really?! It’s just one feather. That can't be right!”

  
  
“One feather that can’t stop bleeding unless it is removed.” A sigh. “The blood can’t clot within the feather so you could lose a lot of it this way. I’d rather not lose my Padawan to a slow and easily remedied death, and I’m sure you’d rather not go out in as inglorious a way as this.” 

Obi-Wan’s face was serious, blue-green eyes boring into him with an expression he couldn’t quite name.

Anakin was frozen for a moment under the gaze but then nodded. The tension drained out of his Master’s body so quickly that it almost might have been a trick of the light the whole time.

“Good. Now, let us get you fixed up.” 

Gingerly, Anakin stretched his wing back out to its full extent, wincing again as the apparently broken feather brushed against its neighbors. 

“It’s probably best if you lay down. I remember breaking quite a few as a Padawan myself and learned the hard way not to be in a position where you could topple over if you can avoid it,” He paused, chuckling, “or slap your master right in the face with your other wing and send  _ him _ toppling over.” 

Anakin had a hard time imagining anything knocking over Qui-Gon Jinn but took the advice anyway. There was a spot with some soft-looking grass that he figured would be comfortable enough. Slowly, Anakin got down on his stomach, pillowing his head on his arms so he couldn’t see the procedure. Not because he was squeamish or anything, of course, he was a tough Jedi Padawan. He just wanted to get a little rest, is all. 

He could hear Obi-Wan rummaging around in one of his belt pouches. Obi-Wan’s other hand came to rest gently but firmly on the small of Anakin’s back. 

“I know this will hurt but try to relax, dear one, and hold very still. It won’t take more than a moment, I promise. Just breathe like we’re meditating.” 

Anakin nodded, then let out a small hiss when he felt the hemostatic tweezers clamp down on the broken feather like a vice. In response, a soothing, numbing warmth spread through the training bond, laced with a faint sense of apology.

A sudden, burning, jolt like a knife lanced through his wing and then dulled as Obi-Wan put pressure on the wound with some sort of cloth. 

“Done! You did wonderfully, Anakin, I’m very proud.” 

Even smooshed against the ground, Anakin could feel his chest swell with the praise. He basked in it like a lizard sunning itself on the sand. 

Then, a horrible thought occurred to him.

“Wait, Master, please tell me it wasn’t one of the pretty ones.” 

Earlier that year, Anakin had started getting dark, iridescentfeathers, each edged in a pretty cream. They weren't coming in all at once but they looked so much better than the normal, greyish-tan ones that always reminded him of the desert. When he squinted at them, they looked like little patches of space. 

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment. “A Jedi must not be too prideful in their appearance,” he said, tonelessly... which meant it was totally one of them. 

“Ugh, I was looking forward to that,” Anakin groaned and dropped his head back to the grass. At least it was soft. 

“Well, if you care so much about them, then you mustn't put them in undue risk by running off ahead.” Obi-Wan kept a steady hand on his wing even as Anakin slumped further into the ground. “But, if it softens the blow, we could clean it off back in town and you could keep it.”

Anakin thought about it. “Maybe…” 

“It’s nothing strange. You’ve probably seen that I still have one of Qui-Gon’s old primaries in my quarters.” 

Anakin thought about it again. Maybe he could put it on a little cord and make a pendant. Or hang it in his braid to make it fancy. 

“Okay, yeah, I think that would be neat.

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan lifted the cloth, seemed satisfied, and helped Anakin up. 

“Hold it steady for another half hour but otherwise you should be right as rain.”

Getting his bearings again--and trying not to wobble too much with only one wing out--Anakin looked back at the still-unconscious poachers. 

“Was nice of them to wait for us, at least.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled from where he was busy gathering things back into various belt-pouches. “Indeed. And it looks like someone else has no sense of danger either."

Apparently unperturbed by the recent scuffle, the sacred bird from earlier had perched itself on the scope of the discarded blaster rifle. It seemed curious about the weapon that would’ve meant its death. Beady eyes flashed with an almost-intelligence as it pecked inquisitively at the metal, tilting its head often to examine the reflective sheen.

It was even more beautiful up close. The males of the species had bright, bioluminescent blue feathers patterned with shining eyespots that apparently retained their glow even after death. They were called "celestial watchers" by the local culture and, according to tradition, were believed to serve as the eyes of the gods. Supposedly the females were blue as well, but didn't have all the eyespots or the fancy crest of downy ribbons like this one did. Obi-Wan had explained that the black market paid a fortune for the feathers since export of the creatures or any part of their bodies was strictly prohibited by the planetary government. Anakin could easily imagine Gardulla flaunting a pair in her opulent palace.

“Hey, bird,” Anakin moved to shoo it away before it could figure out how to blow itself up, “don’t mess with that.” 

Somehow it must have thought that was an invitation to mess with Anakin instead, because it chose Anakin’s head as its next perch. 

“H-hey! Get off!” 

He tried to shoo it away but it wouldn't budge. He couldn’t even see properly because its tail was hanging down in his face, covering his eyes and tickling his nose obnoxiously.

And now his Master was laughing at him. 

“I’m afraid you’ve made a friend, Anakin.” 

Luckily, the bird was blocking Obi-Wan’s view of Anakin’s eye-roll. 

“He must have appreciated your heroics,” he continued, smirk layered through his voice, “After all, he’s only a bird, how could he know the blasters were all set to stun.” 

Wait, what? 

Oh no. 

Obi-Wan was never going to let him live this down. 

(He was right.)


End file.
